


Everything Stays

by Theeniebean



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23055100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theeniebean/pseuds/Theeniebean
Summary: The Master never hid at the end of the universe; he hid in another one. So when Rose Tyler needs help building her dimension canon, he leaps at the chance. But what happens after the dust has settled? Things don't always go according to plan.
Relationships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/The Master, The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	Everything Stays

**Author's Note:**

> This is very much for me. Doctor/Master/Rose is my OT3, but I got to thinking - what about TenToo? If there's anyone in the universe that would understand him, that could give him what he needs, understand where he's coming from, it would be the Master, right? 
> 
> This might branch off and become something else, it depends on if my brain wants to word more.

He finds the meta-crisis in the console room, staring blankly at the rotor, feet kicked up against the console. Borrowed blue suit - or was it his, technically? Meta-crises were always so tricky, as rare as they were. The Master sipped his tea delicately, watching from the doorway. The other Doctor's hair was disheveled, sticking up in any direction it wished. 'How very him,' He thought idly. 

Today had been so...bothersome. One might even venture so far as to call it tiring. Assisting Ms. Tyler had been one thing, the means to an end to break them both free from that universe, and certainly getting two Doctors out of the deal had been an unexpected delight, but he'd had hoped to ship her back there by now and have his little victory lap with the two of them already in motion. Not - 

The other Doctor sighed, so quietly, looking at his hands. The silence in the TARDIS was palpable. The Master took another sip of his tea. Right. 

"Where have blondie and pinstripes gone?" He called, striding into the room. The meta-crisis turned, startled out of his pensive sulk. The Master smirked, setting his tea on the console deftly, as though he hadn't been quietly searching for some place to set it among the chaos for the past five minutes. "Leave you behind while they went to," He shuddered, visibly gagging for the effect, quietly hoping he'd crack a smile, "Canoodle, did they?" 

The meta-crisis' face fell, just for a moment, just enough for the Time Lord to know this situation wouldn't be improving any time soon; it quickly turned to a scowl as he crossed his arms. "They went to catch up." 

The Master smirked, slipping next to him on the jump seat, reveling in the proximity. "And they couldn't do it with you around? Aren't you curious?" He turned his head toward the other man and raised his eyebrows. 

The other Doctor shifted his weight, expression souring as he sighed, sagging back against the jump seat, running his hands over his face, through his hair. "Of course I'm curious! How is she here? How are you-" He paused, mid-hair ruffle, eyes wide. "How ARE you here? You were dead."

The Time Lord smiled sweetly, reaching for his tea. He took an extraordinarily long sip before responding. "Answer me honestly, my dear Doctor. When am I ever actually dead?" 

He seemed to take this under consideration, studying the Master's face intently, eyes traveling over every detail. The Master cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, unblinking, a small smile on his lips. As though he'd ever leave the Doctor behind. Perhaps he'd finally understand. Maybe they'd-

"Wellllllllll," The meta-crisis began, "There was that time-"

He sighed into his tea, setting it aside. "I'm here, aren't I? Not dead. So the other times don't count, do they?" 

"But you were definitely dead-"

"Here. Now. Alive." He did small jazz hands for emphasis. 

"That doesn't change the fact-"

The Master put his hands on either side of the other Doctor's face, shutting him up mid-sentence. "I'm never really dead. Please get that through that exceedingly thick skull of yours, would you? It will make everything so much easier." He lifted his eyebrows, staring intently into those soft brown eyes. 

The meta-crisis opened his mouth to speak, to argue, like he always did - but so did the Master. Each time he began, so did the Time Lord. Only when this stick-figure of a hybrid shut his mouth for longer than five seconds did he drop his hands.

...and then the meta-crisis hugged him. 

Well; launched himself at him would be the better descriptor. He buried his face in the crook of the Master's neck, squeezing the hell out of him, their bodies contorted awkwardly in the seat. He was speaking, muttering, muffled by skin and clothing, but given the dampness, he suspected his friend dearly needed it. 

With a sigh, he slipped his arms around the taller man. "It's alright, I've got you." He muttered into the dishevled hair, planting a quiet kiss against it. He didn't speak again, letting the hybrid release some obviously much-needed emotion onto what was originally quite a nice jacket. The Doctor was fortunate he always rated slightly above fashion. Slightly. 

As he pulled away, some minutes later, wiping his face, muttering apologies, the hybrid spoke, "She said I wasn't him." 

The Master furrowed his brow, incredulous. He'd said it so quietly, he almost hadn't been sure he'd heard that correctly. "What?" 

"Rose. You'd asked where they went." He sniffed, wiping his hands on his crumpled blue suit, trying to salvage his own situation and failing miserably. The meta-crisis sighed. "She said I wasn't him, and left, and he went after her. Because, well, of course, and, I'm not the Doctor, but-" He froze, brain audibly locking up, obviously not quite sure he'd heard himself correctly. He turned back toward the Master, the existential panic the Master had clearly interrupted when he'd arrived setting back in. "...but I am. I am the Doctor. ...I'm me. I--"

Hearing enough, the Time Lord slid from the jump seat immediately, shoes hitting the grating with a clang. He held out his hand. "Come with me." 

The Doctor, his wonderful, stupid, overfeeling idiot looked down at the outstretched palm, frozen. The Master raised his eyebrows, inclining his head toward his outstretched palm, smile opening up across his face only when those bony fingers clasped his own. 

He tugged the Doctor off of the jump seat and down the ramp, back toward the hallways. They didn't speak, only squeezed each other's hands so tightly that one might be forgiven for mistaking it for several hundred years ago and two much smaller, very different yet so very similar boys. No robes to trip them up, no alleys this time - just corridors, endless rooms, until - 

"This-" The Doctor paused, his free hand against the door, one he hadn't seen in centuries, but as familiar as - well, as his own hand. "This is your room." 

"Of course it is. Where else would we go?" 

"But-" 

"I pulled it from the archive while you three were in the kitchen. Along with my laboratory, and the gardens. You know the ones." Without waiting for a response, he keyed in his lock, ushering them both inside. 

Immaculate as always, and full of relics from better times. A prototype TCE lay on the workbench, alongside an ancient cup of tea, abandoned after one too many arguments about-- well, it didn't matter now. The Master led the Doctor to his bed, shoving him gently down onto the satin sheets. The hybrid bounced slightly against the mattress, slipping his hand from the Time Lord's to brace himself, looking up at his Master with wide eyes. 

"I--" The Doctor began. "I'm not sure-"

The Master smirked, shaking his head as he removed his ruined jacket, folding it over the nearest chair. "You really are human now, aren't you? Already gone to such base things." He tisked, throwing himself onto the bed, propping himself up with an elbow. "As though I wouldn't wine and dine you first. Or," He leaned back, considering, "shove you in a barrel and push you over Niagra Falls or something - we both know how near death experiences get you going." 

The Doctor laughed, finally, choking on himself as he flopped backwards against the sheets, turning his head, his whole body curling over onto its side, to face the Master. He snaked a hand out, clasping the Time Lord's gently. "You would, wouldn't you?" He grinned. 

"There'd be a picnic at the bottom, if it's any consolation." He paused, considering. "I can't guarantee I'd wait for you to fish yourself out of the water before opening the wine, though."

The Doctor grinned, shifting closer, tugging the Master in, pressing his lips against the other's gently. The Time Lord responded hungrily, dialing it up to eleven immediately, flipping the Doctor onto his back. With a laugh as the Master straddled him, he grinned, "Whose the base one again?" 

"Shut up," Came the response, growled low into his ear as teeth grazed against the side of his neck, eliciting a moan from the man underneath him. 

Hands trailed up the Master's body, exploring him as he explored the Doctor. They were both fumbling - though he'd never admit that - trying to get a read on each other, tripping over themselves, eager to get what they needed, unsure of how to get there. The Doctor grinned up at him, eyes heavy, dark - playful. Everything he'd wanted. Finally, relaxing. Finally, getting what they wanted, what they'd been denied for so very long for reasons the Master couldn't quite remember having been so angry about.

And when he rested his forehead against the Doctor's own, letting him make the first move, giving him that courtesy for once, instead of taking it all, taking all of him, like he should, like he deserved - 

The Doctor froze, hands stilling, everything stopped as though his lips had turned to stone. He broke off, leaning back.

And so did the Master, brow furrowed. Straighening up astride man's hips, knees digging into the mattress, he frowned, arching a brow as the other man stared unblinking up at him. 

"I-" The hybrid began, voice barely above a whisper. "I can't."

The Master's face contorted, turning over every implication - can't? Can't? Oh. His face softened. Oh. Of course. Human.

And there it was, that look again. Existential. Terror. Confusion. Heartache. Rage. Everything all bundled up together in a tight-knit ball, trying to spill out but so tightly bound up by centuries of self-control. Not sure who or what he is, but knowing every minute detail at the same time. Spending your entire life as one species and finding yourself at a loss when you're trapped somewhere else, within someone else - as something else. 

The Doctor should never have that look in his eyes; something so achingly familiar in those eyes could only be described as perverse.

The Master shifted, sliding down, laying atop the Doctor, resting his hands and chin atop the man's chest, feeling the thud of a single, hammering heart. Just looking at him, just watching. Letting him process it. There's a mourning period, when something so utterly fundamental about yourself is lost. What it can do to a man. He's always been so sure the Doctor never truly understood that, why he's gone as far as he has in the past, and it's no more apparent than it is right this second. 

It disgusts him, right to the marrow of his bones, more than he ever thought it would - that this Doctor, his Doctor, has gained this intimate understanding. He shouldn't ever have had to feel this way too. Not him. It shocks him, this feeling; he tables it, for now, to examine and reexamine later when those eyes aren't burrowing their way into his soul.

"What am I?" The Doctor whispers, barely a breath above a noise. "Kosch'," His voice cracks. "Please."

He considers. The truth, forever changed and irreversably different - cruel. The lie, the same man, the one who fixes and can be fixed - a comfort. Neither are right; not really. He studies the Doctor, really just...looks at him. Lets the seconds turn to minutes, everything dragging. The accuracy of time ticks on in his bones - but he wonders if it feels differently to the other man, now. Is he being cruel? He hopes not, for once.

He sighs.

"You're an idiot." 

The Doctor lets out a choked sob of a laugh as the Master pulls himself up, placing his hands on either side and bracing himself above the man. He sinks low, pressing his lips gently against the other's. "You're you." He pauses. "Just with less parts. Still got the important ones, though, hey?" He wiggles his eyebrows with a smirk and a laugh, balancing as he slides a hand south with a squeeze. 

"Be serious for once!" 

"I am!" The Master grins, rolling off of the Doctor, sitting up. "You've always been an idiot. You will always be an idiot. Hence," He gestures to the whole of the man currently pulling himself up to a sitting position. "You are an idiot." But after a moment, he sighs, tugging his friend closer, pressing his mop of brown hair to his chest. "D'you remember the first day at the Academy? You followed me around for six hours after classes, asking me every question that came to mind. And you did it again the next day, and the next-"

"And you finally asked me one back on the fourth day." 

He hummed. "Do you remember what it was?"

The Doctor laughed, pitching his voice. "Do you ever pause for breath or just have an extra set of lungs?" 

"And you said-"

" 'Maybe I do!' And then we broke into the medical facility to use their scanner." 

They both laughed, settling back against the pillows. The Master rubbed slow circles into a tangle of the Doctor's hair as the other man lay against him. "What do I do, Koschei?" He asked, quietly, after some time. It was surreal, in a way - he could almost picture their rooms at the Academy, different faces, but that same tone of voice when he'd really messed up this time, when he'd skipped one too many assignments, when he'd failed another class. 'What do I do, Koschei? They're going to send a report home.' 'What do I do, Koschei? What if I get kicked out?' 

'What if I can't see you anymore?'

But it was more than that, this time. 

He sighed. "What you always do, I expect." The Doctor shifted, glancing upward. "Run around, use your superiority complex to make more bleeding hearts, annoy me. That sort of thing." 

The hybrid hummed, considering. He sighed. "They won't want me around, she's already made that clear." 

At that, the Master laughed. "Blondie? Sod her. She won't want me around either once she realizes she's got to share, and you know how well I do that, but until I find another TARDIS or steal this one," He continued over the huffed protested, "They're stuck with me. And so are you." He pressed his lips to the hybrid's temple. "Besides, your humans always get all doe-eyed. She'll come around." 

He paused, sitting up. The Doctor mirrroed him, crossing his legs with a raised eyebrow. 

"Orrrrrr - I could put her in the barrel instead." 

"Master."

"Right over the falls."

"No!"

"Go on, it'll be fun!" He gestured with a grin, acting it out and whistling until the point of impact, making a 'kaboosh!' sound. The Doctor shoved him, laughing despite himself. The Master grinned, shoving him back, pushing him backwards onto the bed with a laugh, wrestling just like they had when they were boys. 

He couldn't promise things would be the same, though. He couldn't just slip Theta his homework and couldn't hack the system to give him a percentage this time. There's nothing to fix, there's only his Doctor, wearing new bones that don't quite fit yet. And maybe, maybe, he thinks as he slips out of the Doctor's grasp with a shimmy, he needs someone around who understands how that feels.


End file.
